


Must Get Out

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Negan/Rick fics [27]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Negan (Walking Dead), Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s09e08 Evolution, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Jailbird Negan, M/M, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, References to Depression, Religious Guilt, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love, prison Negan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 09:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16762666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: During one of their little talks, Father Gabriel realizes something about Negan.





	Must Get Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rickbisexualgrimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rickbisexualgrimes/gifts).



“You are here,” Gabriel spoke softly, calmly. He had a funny little brass vase in his hand that made a ringing noise that was surprisingly not annoying. “Aware of yourself.”

Outside, Negan could hear some of the Alexandrian children’s shrieks of laughter. “Can’t get me!”

The words were spoken so innocently. Negan tried not to think about the monsters beyond the wall who wouldn’t understand them.

“Just let it go,” Gabriel intoned in his practiced priest-monotone.

“Better watch out!” The children were probably playing tag. “Hey, wait for me!” They were probably the same age as the kids Negan used to coach at the YMCA during his spare time in the summer breaks between school. “Abby, wait! Don’t go near there! There’s a monster!”

“Don’t judge the distraction.” Negan tried to focus on Gabriel’s voice, tried to do as he said. He focused on the coolness of the cinderblocks against his back, their texture worn and rough and catching on his overly starched shirt. “There it is. Accept it, consider it, and then release it.”

Breathing through his nose, Negan tried to empty his mind. His face scrunched in concentration and he pressed his lips together. Negan’s eyes were tightly shut, and he tried to just focus on the blackness behind his eyelids, but in his mind’s eye, his brain conjured up one face he has been missing every day.

The eyes were blue and crystal clear, stark with tears…no, there were no tears this time. He had his hair cropped short and his beard was lush and full, as white as Santa’s beard. He had a scar on his nose and…he had another scar somewhere. Negan couldn’t remember. He tried to remember what Rick looked like when he smiled, but his smiles had always been so rare for him and when he did, his smiles were small and secretive. The last time he had seen him, he wished Rick had smiled, but he had been so hurt – because of him and his big mouth.

“Screw it.” Negan gave up the fruitless exercise, opening his eyes again and then immediately rubbing them as they adjusted to the light. As he rubbed away the image of Rick, he mumbled, “My mind never ‘empties,’ anyway. Generally, goes straight to that place that would blush the collar right off of you.”

Negan sighed and lifted his glove hand, plucking up the fuzzy, green tennis ball again. He heard Gabriel mirror his sigh, and he lowered the brass vase, giving up as well. Feeling a little guilty that it has become so easy for him to picture Rick’s face instead of Lucille’s, Negan decided to have his fun teasing the priest. “Although, now that you and Rosita are a thing, maybe I’m wrong. I mean,” he bounced the ball off the opposite wall and the ground and neatly caught it in his glove with the practiced hand of not only a former baseball coach but also someone who does this all damn day. “Hot damn.”

“I want to understand why you do this.” Gabriel was trying to be calm. Trying as the key word here. “You clearly want help. I can see you trying.”

"Yeah.” How was Negan supposed to tell him that Negan had been trying for years before he was even locked up in here. Hell, he had even tried before the world had properly ended. No one can say that he never tried. Chuckling at himself in a self-depreciative sort of way, Negan quipped, “Maybe we cooked it up, chewed it up, and shat it out already. Maybe this is all we get.”

"You don’t feel like you’re getting any benefit to our sessions?” It was hard to discern if Gabriel was actually concerned for his mental well-being or annoyed that Negan was wasting his time. Negan went with the latter.

“Well, I am reminded that another week passed, but other than that?” He bounced the ball again and sighed, feeling the weight of his heavy soul, something that was always draped about him like a shawl over his shoulders. Whereas before Negan would wear it like a cape, always tailing him closer than his shadow, but otherwise ignored except to flourish about his hurt when he wanted attention – now Negan felt his loss and his pain keenly everyday and buried it deep inside for him to wallow in for his most pathetic and private moments.

Father Gabriel was not privy to those moments, at least not anymore at any rate. “Ah, don’t take it personally, Gabe. I know I’m never getting out of here.” If Rick were still alive Negan might’ve had that hope. Rick would’ve seen how much Negan has changed and reformed and repented. He would’ve been able to tell that Negan felt guilt slice through his veins every day, whittling holes in his heart. Hell, Rick probably would’ve seen how Judith treats him and let him out already just for the sake of free labor. Michonne and Negan might’ve been alike, but Negan and Rick were two sides of the same coin. Rick Grimes definitely would’ve understood Negan and everything he’s lost after damn everything.

Glancing back at Gabriel, who was standing against the wall with the patience and serenity of his calling, Negan murmured sincerely, “I do appreciate you coming down here and helping me when that was touch and go for me.” It was hard for Negan to articulate how he was then. Not like he was much better anymore. Every day, Negan still woke up and wanted to die, but he knew better than to tell anybody because he also knew that he was a coward who couldn’t do it to himself. And no one had any mercy left in them to kill him. Maybe Judith, but Negan would never ask her. Not until she was grown.

Besides, if Negan told them all that he was still suicidal, they wouldn’t let him have so many privileges, like the extra blankets and the cute little knick-knacks that he could shove down his throat and choke on. The little pig named Violet was from Judith, and one of the Alexandrians with a sense of humor (Siddiq) brought him the miniature bat after he learned about Negan missing Lucille. The bat was kept tucked between the bars in the window, visible to the outside world like a warning to never forget what he had done. Negan couldn’t tell if he put it there as a joke originally or if it was his way of keeping the curious Alexandrian onlookers at a distance. Forcibly brightening his tone, Negan continued, “But now I got everything I need. This little window right here – it’s as good as a TV. And I loved the shit outta TV back when that was a thing.”

Well, that wasn’t really true. He liked to watch sports and catch a movie with Lucille, but he and she spent most of their time outside. They’d go on dates and ride all over creation on his Harley. Their kitchen was hardly ever used since they ate out so much, adventurous in their tastes. Most of the time, Lucille was outside cultivating her garden and Negan alternated between shooting hoops, cutting grass, and doing whatever needed doing around the house. Still, Negan had a point and lying to a priest definitely isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Acceptance is an important first step,” Gabriel mechanically recited, and it frustrated Negan that Gabriel felt so obligated to help but still tried to keep himself so neutral about it and so damn…holier than thou, ironically enough. He much preferred Gabriel when he was personable and when he treated him like anything else besides being a special project. “But a life needs to have meaning.” It was a familiar phrase, one that frankly pissed Negan off. Now that Gabriel wasn’t a coward man of the cloth anymore after being so damn ballsy after the war – and after their stint in the trailer together – Gabriel felt like he had some kinship with Negan. And while Negan wanted to be Gabriel’s friend, Gabriel could never replace what Rick meant to him.

“Funny thing about this window here,” Negan blithely continued, ignoring Gabriel. “People stand out there, and they talk. And it’s like they don’t remember I’m here.” Which hurts his feelings most of the time, but other times, Negan appreciated it. People didn’t tell him things because they didn’t see any point in him knowing. Rick at least would always tell him about things, even if he was bragging. “And that,” Negan pushed forward, swallowing his hurt at remembering Rick, “Well, that is when I get the really good shit.”

There was a palpable shift in the air, and Negan could tell he may be treading too close to the line for Gabriel’s comfort, but he just had to get over that shit. He was always so damn sensitive. Negan bounced the ball again, aggressively hard. “You know, just the other day, Rosita was out there chatting up a storm.” Sliding his eyes over to Gabriel again, Negan smirked and licked his lips for good measure. “She said some things that you would find very interesting.” The ball bounced again.

With carefully crafted serenity and a carefully concealed threat, Gabriel said lightly, “I don’t need you to tell me how Rosita feels about me.”

“You sure, Gabey? Because that Rosita can sure paint a pretty picture.” Another bounce and this time Negan caught it without looking, more or less sensing the ball from his peripheral vision. “The things she said, well, that shit keeps me warm at night.”

Gabriel cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at him. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about Rosita that way.”

“Don’t be jealous, Gabe. It’s not a good look on you.” Negan smiled and bounced the ball again. “I think about you, too, when I jerk off. Rosita really gave some insight to what’s underneath your priest frock there. I’d be fucking jealous if it weren’t for the fact that I know my dick is bigger.”

From the corner of his eye, Negan could see Gabriel shift his weight from foot to foot. “Why do you talk about penises so much? Do you have something to confess?”

Snorting, Negan rolled his eyes to the ceiling. These people were so damn blind. Negan snorted again once he realized he was getting _that_ talk from a priest and Negan was, shit, probably closer to fifty now. “Yes, Father. My loneliness is killing me, and I must confess that I like dick.”

“You’re gay?” Gabriel didn’t bother to hide his confusion now. “What about all those women who were your wives? You real wife?”

“Jesus Christ, Gabe – sorry for taking the lord’s name in vain,” Negan sarcastically drawled, “But just because I say I like dick doesn’t mean that I don’t like pussy. And that doesn’t make me fucking sick or greedy or a goddamn sinner. I’m a fucking sinner because I’ve killed people.” He bounced the ball again, this time so hard that it just hit the wall and didn’t need to bounce on the floor to reach his glove.

“I don’t believe who you love makes you a sinner, Negan.” Gabe was actually admonishing him for that, and Negan rolled his eyes again. Awkwardly clearing his throat, Gabriel slowly asked, “So you’re…bisexual?”

Negan was surprised that Gabe knew what that was, but hell he must have heard so many confessions that he’s got to be a knowledgeable guy about things like that. “Yeah, I am. Keep the fuck up.”

“So,” Gabe set the brass vase on the chair where Negan’s visitors normally sat, indicating that he was going to be here for a while. Negan, normally so desperate for the company, wasn’t sure if he liked that considering the direction of their conversation. “With before, your interest in Rick…?”

“Totally wanted to fuck him.” Now with that, Negan wasn’t surprised that Gabriel picked up on the sexual tension between the two. He had to have been completely blind or just plain stupid to not see that. Most people did, like Michonne and Siddiq and Aaron.

“Actually, I was going to ask if it was more than sexual.”

Despite its fuzzy texture, the tennis ball slid out of Negan’s grip so hard and fast that it rocketed back towards his face and he threw up his glove at the last minute to keep it from breaking his nose. The ball bounced off the wall beside his ducked head and it bounced out of the cell, gently rolling over until it bumped against Gabriel’s polished black shoes, still shiny in the dim cell lighting. Gabriel picked it up and dusted it off against his black pants unnecessarily before tossing it back to Negan through the bars. Negan caught it, shooting a dark look at Gabe simultaneously.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

Negan looked away. “Yeah, it was more than sexual for me with him.” The tennis ball bounced again and thumped back into his glove – hard. “Okay?”

“Hm,” Gabriel nodded and hummed, turning back around to return to his place by the wall. He never stuck close to the bars as if afraid of encroaching too far on Negan’s territory or avoiding the smell or maybe still fearful that Negan might slide his hand through and grab him by that white collar. “You are human after all,” Gabriel commented.

Negan didn’t have a reply for that, and continued to bounce the ball. The children that had been playing outside before were long gone, probably off to dinner. He missed the noise of their chatter and shouts and the thumps of their shoes against their soccer ball. It reminded him of better times, when he wasn’t so lonely, and when he was useful, helping people.

“Do you only feel attracted to people who you know you can’t have?” Negan had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was Gabriel’s form of revenge for the Rosita comments earlier. “You like to covet what is not yours?”

Rather than bouncing the ball again, Negan tossed it in the air and caught it neatly. “Hey, uh,” Negan flicked his tongue over his bottom lip as he finally looked over at Gabriel again, swathed in shadows thanks to his all black ensemble. “Can you leave now? I could really go for my dinner,” He made his excuses, “I’m hungry.”

Lacing his fingers in front of his stomach, Gabriel lifted his chin, obviously the victor as he saw through Negan’s feeble excuses. “I think we need to continue our sessions.” Negan sneered at him wordlessly and then turned his eyes back to the tennis ball, picking bits of fluff off. Thankfully, unlike Negan, Gabriel knew when to quit. “I’ll go fetch your dinner now. I think it’s your favorite.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs?” Negan sardonically guessed. “You know I love a good pair of balls.” Meaningfully, he bounced the tennis ball again.

“Rabbit food.”

“Fucking great.” Negan stretched his legs out. “You know, it would be nice if you’d leave some carrots in their whole so I can have a good time tonight. My fingers are getting a little tired.”

Making an odd choking noise, Gabriel wrinkled his nose and quickly left to make Negan’s dinner. As soon as the door closed behind him, Negan sighed and tossed the glove and the ball on his small bed. Digging the heels of his palms in his eyes, Negan took a calming breath – and promptly let it out in a sob.

By the time Gabriel came back with his dinner and wordlessly passed it through the bars, Negan had dried his tears again and Gabriel was never the wiser of just how deep a chord he struck with Negan.


End file.
